


Apartment 8A

by LaurenWritesFics



Category: What's Your Number? (2011)
Genre: F/M, Fluff, One Shot, Romantic Comedy, Short One Shot, Unresolved Sexual Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-12
Updated: 2021-03-12
Packaged: 2021-03-20 08:26:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 583
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30002055
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LaurenWritesFics/pseuds/LaurenWritesFics
Summary: Cocky bachelor Colin Shea teases his new neighbor...
Relationships: Colin Shea/Reader, Colin Shea/You
Kudos: 1





	Apartment 8A

**Author's Note:**

> DISCLAIMER: Any reference to existing copyrighted/trademarked companies/characters is done so without intent of ownership.
> 
> This story must not be posted, reproduced or altered in any way without the express permission of the author.
> 
> * * *

Barely a month had passed, but this apartment already felt like home. Yes, there were still boxes lying in wait for clumsy feet, and the entryway floorboards creaked, and the gas stove was temperamental, and the thick smell of hot, greasy street food wafted through the window every Saturday morning, but this was home. The neighbors made it even more so. Mrs Allen in apartment 6A had greeted you the way a grandmother would, with a warm hug and a plate of freshly baked cookies. You still felt guilty for leaving the cookies untouched, but you’d been raised to never take anything from strangers, especially food. Compliments, however, were an exception. Especially when they came from Colin Shea in apartment 8A.

“Colin Shea in apartment 8A,” you had whispered with a little bounce in your voice after he had introduced himself by lugging some of your boxes upstairs. He was attractive in the same way as a popular high school jock was, broad shouldered, loud and irritatingly unattainable. You wondered if he kept score of the number of women that he brought back to his apartment. Who did he think he was? Asshole. Tall, blonde, charming asshole.

Admittedly you’d helped each other out of your fair share of binds, albeit trivial ones, but underneath these faux heroics, he was still cocky as hell.

On Monday morning, you rose early, turned on the news and grabbed a quick and easy breakfast. A surprise even to yourself, you somehow managed to arrive early to work on Mondays.

Your morning ritual always began with coffee. This morning, however, the coffee machine seemed to gurgle on a little too long. Cocking your head, inspecting the machine, you gave it a few slaps and pressed your ear to the top to listen for strange sounds. That’s when you heard the sliding rattle of your shower door. In your morning fog, you looked down at your hands, pinched your arms, slapped your cheeks. Definitely awake. Maybe this was a break-in. Leaping into action, you grabbed the nearest thing to a weapon you had – your umbrella – and strode carefully across the floor. Flinging the bathroom door open, sure enough, steam rose from the shower. _Who takes a shower during a break-in?!_ You wrenched the curtain open with the tip of the umbrella.

“Jesus Christ! Can’t a guy shower in peace?!” Colin jumped back, slipping a little, clutching the curtain like a frightened kitten.

“Yes he can, in his own damn apartment. How did you even get in here?!”

“Door was open. You were asleep so I figured…”

“You watched me sleep _and_ used my shampoo?”

He smirked. “You look cute when you’re asleep.”

He looked cute standing in your bathroom, with your towel wrapped around his waist, shampoo suds in his hair. 

Concentrate.

“You’re insane.” Hands on hips, you gave him a faux-pissed scowl. Things could be worse.

“All the best people are.” He winked, starting to unravel the towel.

You winced, holding your hands up, gesturing him to stop. “You can keep the towel.”

“Something to remember you by.” He winked.

“Get out of my apartment, I have to go to work and I don’t want you to be here when I get back.”

Hoisting the towel back up on his hipbones, he scoffed. “Sure you don’t.”

“God, you’re such an asshole.” You rolled your eyes, turning your back on him.

“Okay, okay, I’ll go. On one condition.” He gathered his clothes. “Let me buy you a drink tonight.”


End file.
